Friday, 31 May 2013

As moms we all start out with our children being attached to us at the womb. During the toddler years they appear to be attached to our hips, the tween years find our darlings up our asses and the during the teenage years we find their asses in our wallets! And yet through it all my only quest as a mother was to be able to pee in peace. Imagine my delight when by sheer accident I discovered a sure fire way to keep a toddler at bay whilst you go about your bathroom business! Unfortunately I didn't discover this until I was on my last toddler. It was close to Halloween and the tweenies were getting their costumes together and much to my horror and later, euphoria, #1 tweenie had decided to be a hideous monster, complete with a hideous mask. A hideous mask that sent his little brother screaming and running from the room.

It looked a lot like this.

- And then I had my Oprah "A ha" moment! -

That's right. A well placed Halloween mask outside the bathroom door will keep those pesky toddlers at bay and YOU will be allowed the luxury of peeing in peace! Now before all you perfectly perky lit'l mommy bloggers hit your speed dials to call in CPS, this technique is harmless unless you're raising your kids to be pussies, then you'll have years of therapy to pay for but that's on you, shoulda' toughened 'em up. And the best part? It works the first time! No more making a mad dash for the bathroom trying to get in before your toddler discovers you've left the room. No more barricading the bathroom door. After your toddler has discovered the hideous mask the first time all you have to do is mutter those 5 magic words, "I'm going to the bathroom." Your toddler will look at you like a deer caught in the headlights and stay put until you've had your moment of peeing in peace. As for the rest of your day, well.. There's always bedtime, right?

Saturday, 25 May 2013

Ok, I understand that being from the south beauty pageants are a way of life, more important than food or education for your child. But these Mom's are some of the craziest bitches I have ever seen. The family may live in a trailer with no running water or electricity but that's just a little thing compared to buying that ultimate pageant dress for little Sugar Poo Poo. "We don't need water, we don't need power but we do absolutely HAVE to have that $6,000.00 dollar dress for the beauty pageant! What would the other Mom's think if we bought a used dress or worse yet didn't enter at all? The other 6 kids will just have to get over trekking through the mosquitoes at night to go outside to the bathroom and missing a few meals a week. After all it's really all about Sugar Poo Poo bringing home that crown!"

"Sparkle baby, sparkle" is often heard as the rally cry when a child is on stage and Mom is in the audience. WTF does that even mean? She isn't some magical fairy or a vampire from the Twilight series, I don't care how much you scream it at her she isn't going to sparkle. She is still going to be that little fat kid you dressed up in a $6,000.00 dollar dress, had some make up artist come in to do her tramp make up and pile her hair up on her head to heights higher than Tammy Faye Bakker ever dreamed of reaching. Sure she has fake fingernails, fake teeth and an artificial tan but do you really think no one is going to notice she is only a child and a fat one at that? Not a chance in hell, they are making fun of you Momma, right behind your back or on some blog somewhere.

Now, Sugar Poo Poo at this pageant is crabby, hateful and screaming that she wants to go home. Mostly because that expensive dress, fake eye lashes and sky high hair is itching her to death and she wants set free. What is Momma's solution to this problem? Pixie sticks and Mountain Dew of course, if they can jack her up on Mountain Dew with 15 pixie sticks poured into it she will be numb and not feel the pain. I imagine much like a crack addict, give them enough crack and they don't feel anything or care what anyone is saying about them.

Then of course we always have some obese mother who thinks she is hiding standing in the audience doing the routine along with her child to help her remember her moves. Lady, people see you, your not hiding and it isn't pleasant to watch 300 pounds of fat imitate the pouty face or the Shirley Temple dimple move let alone the whole routine while screaming out "Sparkle baby, sparkle!"

You pay a couch to teach your child how to walk across the stage? If the child is so stupid it can't learn that alone then you just need to keep them home.

There is a bright side, once in a while one child gets jealous because another wins and either throws a fit or a massive crown take over breaks out with the winner tugging on one side and the loser tugging on the other side and while it's horrible these children act this way there is still something satisfying about watching it. But my favorite of all is the Momma of the loser, who stalks out yelling and cussing that the judging was rigged and they shouldn't have even come in the first place. I agree lady, you shouldn't have come, you should have stayed home and let your child be a child.

Don't get me started on the little boys they stick in these pageants..........

Monday, 20 May 2013

True story: My aunt Maymee, loves babies. To her, all babies are unique beauties in their own right, regardless of creed, colour or gender. And it matters not, whether they look like a cross between Benjamin Button, or a drowned rat, she will always have an "aww, oh how cute", tucked away for them in her otherwise limited vocabulary... Apart from this one child that is. A child so ugly, that the sun refused to shine when he was outside and the birds would fly South early, just to get escape the horror.

One day Aunt Maymee notices the child's mother, whom she hadn't seen in a while and approaches her to say hello. The kid, being all of a week old at the time, was too much of a temptation for Maymee, who promptly peeked into the pram, removed his blanket and said...not one word. Nothing. Nada. Zip. The pressure was beginning to mount as the child's mother waited patiently for the appropriate affirmation as to the cuteness of her child and still she could not think of a kind word to say. The mother, smile now beginning to droop slightly, became impatient and looked a little upset. Not wishing to offend, Aunt Maymee thought hard to think of the perfect compliment and as she leaned forward, a smile upon her lips, all she could utter were the immortal lines "aww, what a lovely...pram".

My point? Well ladies, I'm here to tell you that the chances that your newborn will most probably look like a cross between a skinned pig and a hairless monkey, are pretty high. Very rarely will you push out from your battered womb, a child so beautiful that they will look like they've been fashioned from the laps of the Gods. Butterflies will not dance around the halo above their squishy heads and deer will not frolic gaily beside their cot, because your child will be one ugly mofo.

So if you are reading this right now and you're pregnant, there will be no getting away from the fact that your precious will probably look a lot like Gollum. All you Mothers who put those cute little bows around the mane of your child, STOP IT! Look at her, she's as bald as a coot, why the hell does she need to wear a bow? To stop her baby fat from getting into her eyes?? And all you who insist on blinging em out like a toddler Mr T, why would you even think to draw attention to what amounts to be the Phllsbury Doughboy?

I hate lying but time and time again, I'm forced to chew through my tongue to stop myself from screaming, "On my god, it's hideous! Kill It. Kill it with fire!" Instead I have to endure the ache in my face as I smile down at your 9lbs of obesity and tell you how cute they are. Newborns are not cute! They are shriveled wrinkled prunes who look like deformed dwarves trying to chew their own faces off and as such, should be kept out of the public eye...like lepers, or Paris Hilton. Once the wrinkles have ironed themselves out and they no longer resemble Mr or Mrs Potato Head, you can then parade them around to your heart's content but not before. So please mums, keep your ugly wombruits to yourself, because isn't there enough horror in the world already?

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Dispelling the myth of the perfect parents and children in our own way. There are four of us, Aede Mig, Kat, Joy and Conchetta. We write what we feel, like it or not. We might call each other out because we don't always agree or just let it slide. Depends on how much wine we might or might not have had on that particular day. We don't have perfect children, we don't have perfect lives and we don't believe anyone else does, we are just brave enough to admit it.